Not the Last
by Child of Mars
Summary: Adrenalin pumping in their young hearts, Victor Creed and Jimmy Howlett set off running, that fateful night at Howlett Manor. And for more than a hundred years after that they never stopped. But everyone needs sleep. Victor and Jimmy's first night in the woods together. NOT SLASH, just a bonding between our favorite feral cubs. Rate K just to be safe.


**Not the Last**

Jimmy shoved his hands deeper into his armpits, his little body hunched up against the trunk of a tall oak. The knobby, thick roots were cool and rough, but not as cold as the chilly breeze that seemed to seep through his pajamas, triggering an uncontrollable shivering.

Feeling his nose drip, he sniffed violently, wishing that for once, he wasn't sick. But as the cold air whistled up his nostrils, his eyes widened in surprise as an entire flood of different scents rushed up with it…he could smell wet earth, leaves, toad stink, fire smoke, old skunk musk, even…and he blushed at the thought…the raw excitement and stress coming from Victor.

The older boy was kicking leaves back and forth, scraping the earth clean and creating a kind of hollow in the ground. He was balanced on one foot, sticking his arms out as he swayed with a strange sort of grace. There was a dark bundle on the ground beside him, just visible in the crisp, clear moonlight. It was an old horseblanket. Victor said he found it in the stables at Howlett Manor.

At the look of dismay in Jimmy's face, he'd told him it was his by right, since he was the heir after his father died, and it was really the least everybody owed him after all the lies and deceptions. Jimmy was too cold to argue.

After a few moments, Victor gave a grunt of satisfaction and picked up the blanket, dangling it in the air. Leaves fell off with a crackling sound that was strangely loud to Jimmy…the entire world, in fact, seemed to be louder, smellier, more colorful…it all had more life to it.

Then, to Jimmy's surprise, Victor stuck his finger into the material and pulled down. With a sharp ripping sound, he tore it from top to bottom. Grabbing the severed half before it hit the ground, he tossed it at Jimmy, who just barely caught it. "Here, that's yours. Make yourself a bed…" he narrowed his eyes calculatingly at the hollow Jimmy was in, "where you are now's fine. It shields you from the wind a little."

Jimmy felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. He shifted deeper into the leaves and pulled the blanket over himself with shaky fingers. The blanket was made of wool with a cotton linning in order to give both comfort and warmth to a horse. Even cut in half, it was still quite big enough to cover him.

He wasn't even that terribly cold now. Warmth slowly moved through his body and he curled in on himself, pulling his feet up. They were only covered in Victor's socks. Victor said they'd get shoes tomorrow…he'd made Jimmy promise to tell him if he got too cold or felt sick.

But there were other things he'd rather tell Victor about. Like how the forest felt like it was leaning over him menacingly, the trees scratching the dark sky with their bare wooden claws, like plucked chicken bones. The shadows got thicker near the ground, extending off between the trees like a black mass, hiding who knew what.

He wanted to tell Victor exactly what he thought he saw in those woods…the slow, steady crunch of heavy paws, the silent moan of an unsatisfied predator as it complained through its throat to the world around it that it had found nothing and was hungry. He could imagine the mist slowly curling from its steaming maw…saliva on its teeth, so terribly, horrifyingly strong. Leaping at him…bearing him down with sheer weight, tearing him open…and he could do nothing…

The hair on the back of his neck stiffened as a sharp, solitary crack echoed out from the trees to his left. He sat straight up with a cry, his hands instinctively curled into fists. Thankfully, the…bone things…did not extend.

Victor, however, sat up instantly, looking like one of the cats at Howlett Manor when Jimmy woke them up by stepping on their twitching tails. He glared at Jimmy, that sullen look on his face that he had worn for as long as Jimmy could remember. "What's wrong with you?"

"I…I…" Jimmy stuttered, glancing between the black forests and Victor, trying to decide which was more forbidding, "thought I heard somethin'."

"Well, you didn't. Go back to sleep." With these words, Victor relaxed, curling back under the blankets until only his brown hair was showing.

Jimmy clutched his rapidly cooling blanket, still caught in an agony of indecision. He decided to lie down and close his eyes…hard.

But just as he did so, he heard the twigs snapping above, high in the oak. It was probably just the wind, but it shouldn't be so _loud_…it sounded like it was just over his head. Squirrels didn't run around at night, did they? No, that'd just be stupid. An owl would get them for sure. That's it. Maybe it was an owl.

Or something bigger.

Slowly, barely daring to breathe, Jimmy pulled the blanket up to his cheek until it almost touched his eyelashes. Then, mouth partly open, frozen, he opened one eye, looking straight up at the branches above him.

Something black flew against the shadows, sharply outlined by the moon. He couldn't tell what it was, but his heart skipped a beat. Then, a hard thing hit him in the face.

He thought it was the creature. He screamed, terrified, swiping at his face as he rolled out of the blanket as if it was on fire. It was probably just a fallen bit of branch, but Jimmy was too terrified to think of that and quickly crawled on all fours towards Victor, who reared up just in time to crash his head into Jimmy's.

"Darn it, Jimmy!" Victor looked furious. He shoved Jimmy away, but the terrified boy only scooted closer. Victor didn't notice. "What is it?!" he touched the sore spot on his forehead.

"I'm cold…please, can I sleep with you?" Jimmy's voice was trembling.

Victor's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Quit actin' like a little girl. There's nothin' in these here woods that we can't handle together."

Jimmy persevered with that stubborness born of desperation, when a child is so frightened that nothing matters anymore except protection from that fear. "I'm too cold to sleep by myself."

"Yore fine," Victor said dismissively, "just tuck yore arms in and make sure yore feet don't get too cold…wouldn't want that sickness to come up again." He narrowed his eyes as Jimmy swayed slightly, grabbing at Victor's sleeve for support as he sat down hard. "Already has, hasn't it." It was a statement, not a question.

Jimmy sniffed, then nodded, feeling a little too overwhelemed to respond. He felt a headache flaring up again…funny, everything had gone away when…those things came out of his knuckles. Headache, tickly throat, chills…and then he ran forward and he…he killed….didn't mean to…

The plain wretchedness of his world struck him, as images of his dead, beloved father flashed before his eyes. Ripped out of his life, gone…those big, strong hands would never touch him again. He'd never hear that kind voice again, never see the smile in those brown eyes. A part of him that he adored and loved and needed so very badly…_Father…_

He felt the stinging tears behind his eyes. His face crumpled. Drawing his knees up, he buried his face in his arms to hide his feelings from Victor. Only yesterday, he'd been the young master of Howlett Manor, the benevolent but always superior friend of Victor Creed, the gamekeeper's son. Then one night, one terrible night…and he was just a terrified little boy, clinging to the elder for dear life.

He was searching, searching for safety, comfort…he needed his father back, needed him so badly…to hug him and tell him it was all right. He needed love, what his mother had always denied him, what his father had always showered him with. And he knew he wouldn't find it in Victor.

His small body heaved with a swallowed sob he nearly choked on, face and throat tight as he fought to control his emotions and not fall apart. As if to mock his small struggle, the breeze whipped up and dragged its chilly fingers across his bare neck. He shivered violently, and then burst out in a strange wheeze of misery.

Victor just looked at him.

Jimmy realized he wasn't going to get anything from his brother. He might as well not stay there, crying and making a fool out of himself. Sniffing miserably, he turned and stumbled back to his own bed, his eyes blurry.

He gathered his blanket up and just held it, kneeling on the leafy carpet, trying not to think of the shadows all around him, or the faces in his memory, or the blood on his bone claws. He slowly began to knead the blanket, clenching and unclenching the material with shaking fists, trying to work up the courage to go back to sleep.

"Jimmy," a voice made him turn around. Victor hadn't moved. He was still sitting up, clawed hands splayed out on either side of him, blue eyes just staring at him.

Jimmy tried to respond, but all that came out was a shaky, "ye-ah?"

Victor shifted away from him, farther against the tree trunk. He flipped the blanket off his legs, leaving a clear space beside him while gesturing with his free hand. "Come 'ere."

Unable to believe it, Jimmy clasped his own blanket protectively, "what?"

"Come 'ere," Victor repeated, his face losing some of that sullen, stony quality, instead being replaced by impatience. "I'm not gonna say it again."

Jimmy quickly came and dropped down onto the clear spot. Victor took the crumpled blanket from him and shook it out before spreading it over his body. "Now you lie down and keep quiet, understand?"

Jimmy nodded, not trusting himself to speak. As Victor lay down beside him, Jimmy instinctively snuggled into his side, closing his eyes in sweet relief as the rapid beating of his heart calmed down. It wasn't just the fact that Victor was warm…Victor was familiar, like home. He was _alive_, like so many people seemed not to be all of a sudden. And he was _friendly_, as nothing else was.

Victor instinctively arched away, unused to the feeling. Only one person in his life had ever touched him, and certainly never like that. His first impulse was to shove him away, away from his skin, away from anything that could feel and be hurt.

But there was no danger from the small, tousle-headed boy. The one and only living human being to ever show Victor affection. He was quiet, slowly drawing in Jimmy's familiar scent with every breath. It calmed him. After a few seconds, he decided he could tolerate this special little boy's touch.

Still lying on his back, Victor shifted his head closer until it was brushing against Jimmy's. A warm feeling bubbled up in his chest…he didn't have a word for it, but it certainly spoke to things inside him, things he thought he'd lost long ago; trust, comfort, the urge to protect…even love.

He'd started with nothing and no one. Over the long, painful years, he came to think he could live that way and still be happy. Only now he had someone, and he was beginning to think just how horrible and empty his life had been before…how it could yet again be if he ever lost Jimmy.

He made up his mind, then and there, that he would never ever let that happen.

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For the third time that night, Victor was woken up suddenly and violently. A small, thin arm thwacked him square in the face. He also felt cold. He propped himself up on his elbows and turned to look.

Jimmy had pulled their blankets off. His head whipped back and forth, limbs flailing. The bone claws were half way out of his right hand. Victor quickly snatched Jimmy's wrist and held it safely away from himself.

As if the touch had added an extra element of reality to the younger boy's dreams, Jimmy's face tightened with pain, tears trickling from under the eyelids as he jerked away. "Father!"

Victor flinched as if he had been hit again. He'd had nightmares about his father too…just in a different way. Without even stopping to think about it, he wrapped his arms firmly around Jimmy, forcibly holding him still, feeling how small and frail his brother seemed to be.

Then, he whispered into Jimmy's hair, "hush Jimmy…you ain't alone. You ain't ever alone, cause I'm here. I'll protect you."

Jimmy didn't wake up. But his face relaxed. The claws retracted. With a simple, trusting sigh, his head sank into Victor's arm. Victor lay down again, pausing only to pull the blanket up to Jimmy's chin. He wasn't being a mother hen…he just didn't want Jimmy to get too cold again. He _was_ sick, after all.

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The next morning, Victor stiffly lifted himself out of bed and walked off towards the trees, leaving Jimmy to wake up on his own. He was sore, all over. Jimmy slept like a wild, living bundle of bones, hitting and jabbing Victor all night, sometimes so hard that he punched him awake, like a stab of pain in the warm, comfortable fog of sleep.

Victor's stomach rumbled. So much excitement, so much running last night…they'd have to find breakfast soon. And new clothes for Jimmy. He turned at the thought and saw Jimmy sit up, blinking, his red bathrobe askew, his brown hair fluffed up like an irritated porcupine.

He couldn't help but grin at the sight. Stopping to experimentally dig his short claws into the bark, he watched tiny chunks of wood fly off. He could finally let them grow again, now that his…_father_…had gone back to hell. The idea of how much damage they would be able to do at full length tickled his stomach with excitement.

Still grinning, he rushed over to Jimmy, dropping to his knees in front of the startled boy with a spray of leaves. "Hey, Jimmy! How's it feel…how's yore first day of freedom feel?"

Jimmy was mute for a moment. Something in his brown eyes wavered, like a fire that had been whipped down by a draft of air. He blinked. "Is father dead?"

Victor's face turned sullen with disappointment as he sat heavily in the leaves with a crackling sound. He couldn't understand Jimmy's attachment to Thomas Howlett…so what if the old man was sweet on him? The minute Jimmy's bone claws showed…that very minute, Victor knew, Howlett would have turned on his son. That's what people did when you were 'freaky', when you were small and helpless, when you were _different_. 'Fathers' were definitely no exception. "Yeah, he's dead," he said shortly, without any attempt at being gentle.

Jimmy shuddered and quickly ducked his head. When he spoke, it was so low Victor almost missed it, even with his sensitive hearing. "I miss him."

Victor ignored him, still angry. "And by the way, that's the last time yore sleepin' with me…you can't keep still. You hurt me everyime you touch…" he bit the last word off short, literally.

Jimmy seemed to shrink under that remark. He stuck his fists out and stared at them as if they were not his own. "When will they come out?" he whispered. Victor didn't know what to say, so he was silent. Jimmy's face crumpled and he shook his head, horrible memories streaming before his eyes. To Victor's alarm, he looked like he was going to cry again. "_Why_ did they come out?" at 'why', Jimmy's voice hissed, like a sob that had been vocally crushed until only the tiniest whisper of agony actually made it out.

Quickly, not knowing why he did it or if it would even help, Victor picked Jimmy up by his arms until they were both standing. He took Jimmy's fists in his own, rubbing his thumbs over the other boy's knuckles, gently, slowly, soothingly. "Don't cry, Jimmy. Don't you dare cry …this here's a gift, y' hear me?!" he bent over, keeping his face close to Jimmy's, "you gave…_him_ what he deserved. You paid him back for yore father…this here's special. No one can do it…not even me, see?" he paused briefly to flex the claws on his left hand. He watched Jimmy's face to make sure he was looking.

"It's _special_ Jimmy…" he saw Jimmy didn't believe him, even if he was afraid to say so. Nothing could make up for the loss of his father…well, if Jimmy was determined to get hung up over _that_, there was only one thing Victor could do.

"_Yore_ special."

Warm brown eyes flew to meet sharp blue ones. "Yore special to me, cause yore my little brother. And I'm gonna watch out for you, forever."

Jimmy swallowed, but there was light in his eyes. "Forever's a long time, Victor…"

"Sure is," the older boy smiled, but his tone was serious, "and don't you _ever_ forget that."

He suddenly grabbed Jimmy's wrist, tired of the touchy-feely talk. He set off through the woods. At first, Jimmy faltered, dragging at Victor's hand as he struggled through the leaves and shrubs. But then, he got the hang of it, just like Victor knew he would, _(he may be small and weepy, but my brother's smart as anything…)_

Soon, they were loping along together through the woods, hair flying, warm, late summer sunshine pouring down the sharp paths of light that pierced the forest canopy. Victor put on a burst of speed, letting go of Jimmy's hand as he leapt forward over the ditch.

With the natural feline grace that seemed to have come with his claws and teeth, Victor rolled in mid air, just like a tumbler. When he sat up, breathless, there were leaves in his hair. He heard Jimmy's rapid, crunching footsteps as he got closer. But even better, he heard his little brother's laughter.

Victor grinned, catching Jimmy as he clumsily jumped over the ditch. His flailing leg caught on the edge and he tripped, falling on top of his brother and laying them both out flat on the ground. They tousled a moment, trying to pin the other down. Victor could've done it easy, but Jimmy was just a wisp of a thing compared to him…it would have been plain mean to whup him. So he let Jimmy sit on his chest and pound him a few minutes. Then he dumped him off suddenly, got up, and sped on through the forest.

Jimmy's footsteps, and Jimmy's laughter, were right behind him.

Victor looked back and taunted him over his shoulder. Something inside his chest, like a pinioned bird, seemed to just break free and fly. He had never done anything like this before…and yet it came so naturally, as if taking care of Jimmy, comforting Jimmy, _loving_ Jimmy…had brought it to life.

He knew it would be no different tonight, when the darkness closed in, and the bad dreams came back; floating in the cold air like the touches of a ghost…he had a feeling Jimmy'd be sleeping with him again. And it probably wouldn't be the last time, either.

FINIS


End file.
